Manifest

Twenty-seven

Word spread of Abasi Isong's presence in Antaikot. Mbono from other gatherings started converging on the one where Uduak presided. It did not take long for the outskirts of the gathering to fill with cars as mbono offloaded their belongings, eager to commune with Abasi Isong.

Dressed in raffia skirts and their legs adorned with stripes of material, lined with bells, most of the mbono already living in the gathering were parading around, their heads stiff with the weight of the large, heavy comb stuck to the back of their heads. Not everyone had the luxury of donning full mbono regalia.

Anne was one of them. Luckily, she'd taken a bath in the stream and gotten fresh clothes from her cupboard. Her cheek was still smarting from Uduak's punch, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. She had a loose tooth and she had to remind herself not to disturb it too much or else it would just get worse.

Anne had taken over the checkpoints set out all over Antaikot to discover and contain any mbono trying to flee. Any ekpo, she corrected herself. She wove her hair into one and put in a tiny, silver comb. She went as far as marking her eyes with black and white paint but that was the extent of her adornment. Nothing like a little gathering spirit to cheer the heart on such a gloomy day.

Abasi Isong would understand she meant no disrespect.

Anne had only ever met Abasi Isong three times in her whole life and each encounter had proved more divine than the last. The woman was stately and kind, strong and meek. When she spoke, she tended to look people in the eye in a way that was more comforting than when the chief did it. When the chief looked you in the eye, you could feel her attention. If she noticed you, there had to be a reason. The chief didn't waste her time on just anybody. If she was looking you in the eye, it would be in your best interest to figure out why and act accordingly.

Abasi Isong was different. You could feel the warmth. The love. Too much reassurance was found in those eyes and too many times, people were met with understanding and acceptance.

Anne had seen pictures. She'd heard the stories from elder mbono. She knew that Abasi Isong had spent most of the last four hundred years in the guise of an agile, able-bodied young woman. The fact that she had begun to age was a relatively new development. One that Abasi Isong encouraged when she'd decided to put herself in the public eye and in politics.

She hadn't done anything to revert her appearance, since returning to Akwa Ibom. She'd kept the grey hair and the wrinkle lines. She'd kept the greying skin and the thin lips. If, among loyal worshipers, Abasi Isong kept up the façade, Anne had to wonder if this was the façade or the real Abasi Isong. Or some semblance of it.

As mbono set up more make-shift homesteads and fires, Anne stood to the side, watching Abasi Isong where she stood at the center of the gathering, her feet bare, her hands spread away from her swaying body and her head lifted up to the sky. A single drummer sat, a few feet away, beating soft tones, following Abasi Isong's movement as she swept her feet across the ground. She rolled her shoulders, twirled her waist and nodded her head.

She was mesmerizing to watch.

Occasionally, she would hum aloud, and the drummer would pick up the pace. Sometimes, she would slow down. Both the dancer and the drummer seemed to understand each other without words, following and leading and switching roles in a manner that would confuse anyone else.

When Abasi Isong danced closer to her, Anne stiffened.

"Is Uduak sleeping?" Abasi Isong asked, still moving as the drummer began to beat softer, allowing for conversation.

"Yes, Abasi."

"I do not want her to leave that hut till tomorrow," Abasi Isong said. "You people are trying to run her ragged."

"We're sorry," Anne said, head bowed in submission.

"When was the last time she slept?"

Anne could not remember. A lot of them hadn't slept in days, too strung out to move, sometimes, yet, still too wired to fall asleep.

"Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Yes," Anne said. How could she have forgotten? "There was a fire in Edidiong Okot's family home last night. We don't know what caused it but this morning, he was seen helping clear the place up."

"He's there now?" Abasi Isong asked. "Is Enyong with him?"

"We haven't seen Abasi Enyong, but we do know they've been stuck to each other's side since his awakening. If Edidiong is in his father's house, the assumption is that Abasi Enyong is there as well."

Abasi Isong shook her head and waved at the drummer to stop.

"Something else on your mind?" Abasi Isong asked walking closer to Anne.

"Abasi?"

"I can feel the tension in your body and it's about more than my concerns so, what's on your mind?" she tapped a barefoot on the ground. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'm sure you already have a lot to worry about, Abasi. I sent some mbono with mkpo ufok to recover Abasi Enyong and Edidiong Okot," Anne said, her hands clasping behind her as she tried not to step back, the closer Abasi Isong got.

"I want to hear from you," Abasi Isong said. "What else is the problem?"

"The chief ordered that the men of the faith be rounded up."

Abasi Isong squinted.

"Do you have a brother in the faith?" Abasi Isong asked.

"No, Abasi. I have... I have a... boyfriend."

"Is he in custody?"

"No."

"Sounds suspicious."

"He's not ekpo. He's been faithful ever since I met him."

"So has every other mbono in custody."

"Please, Abasi."

"Doesn't it say something that he's not the one pleading before me, right now?"

"He's been really busy this year. I'm sure he'll get here eventually."

Abasi Isong lifted Anne's head up by the chin and smiled at her.

"He'll be fine," Abasi Isong said. "I just want to talk to all of them. I'm not really in the mood to torture and kill worshipers, Anne. You should remember that."

"Abasi Sosongho." Thank you, Abasi, she said, bowing, as hope welled up within her.

"However, all that would have to wait," tenderly, she caressed Anne's cheek. "I have a brother to put down."

With a quiet whoosh, Abasi Isong disappeared.